Lagniappe Records

[Update: Lagniappe Records has since moved operations to 313 Jefferson Street in Lafayette, where it remains a hub for record lovers in the region.] 

The interstate snorts and rumbles mere yards away from Lagniappe Records, Baton Rouge’s most recent supplier to vinyl junkies. Within the cozy shop, a cockatiel known as Agnes performs restless circuits on top of her open cage, eyeing the window where a view of the on-ramp, extending practically to Lagniappe’s door, hints at adventure. But Agnes and her owner, proprietor/musician Tess Brunet, will have to agree to disagree on this matter—Brunet has turned her gaze away from the road; she’s ready to stay put.

This wasn’t always the case. The thirty-five-year-old Brunet has spent most of her adult life updating her address. “I like change. I like growing,” she said.

Born in Houma, Brunet left home at seventeen to study business, which amounted to three semesters at the University of New Orleans. “I gave it the old college try,” she laughed. “But I just wasn’t feeling it.” Though she performed well academically, she couldn’t reconcile her doubts with her mounting debt. “By the third semester, I was looking at my student loans and thinking, ‘What the hell am I doing?’”

She dropped out of college in 1997 and secured a position at a group home for children; but the workload weighed on her. “If you’re a sensitive person, that’s a hard job. I just felt seriously underqualified.”

A friend was moving up to Boston and invited along Brunet, who couldn’t think of a reason not to make the leap. “I had no direction. I had no idea what I was going to do next.”

Just two years later, she moved from Massachusetts to New York City, landing a job in the accounts receivable department at SIR Studios, a rehearsal and production facility that has served such artists as The Rolling Stones, Lou Reed, and Jay Z. On her breaks, Brunet took advantage of the surroundings to pick up a new skill: drumming. Soon her pastime outgrew “hobby” status and spilled over into “obsession.”

She faced no shortage of creative outlets or activity in the city, but after three years her sense of frugality gnawed at her: “It sucks being poor in New York,” groaned Brunet. “I love going there now to visit, but unless I’m super loaded…well, I don’t wanna live there.”

And so by 2004, the burgeoning musician had decamped back to New Orleans, where she didn’t just improve her finances, but also joined an indie rock outfit. Formed by fellow Houma artist Dax Riggs in 2000, deadboy & the Elephantmen welcomed Brunet’s twirling drumsticks and woozy background vocals. Before long, she was swinging into motion again—this time, on tour with deadboy.

“That really started a domino effect on my life as a musician on the road,” said Brunet. For the next ten years, she toured almost constantly (with deadboy), playing festivals like Lollapalooza and Austin City Limits. She lent her musical chops to acts like The Generationals and music legend Lady Bo of Bo Diddley and lived everywhere from Austin to Athens, Georgia.

“I already had a love of music, but it grew so much deeper. You’re on the road, playing with different bands every night. You see the inside of a new record shop in every town you go to.”

Brunet embraced change, barrelling hungrily toward it. But though she gained a variety of experience from gig to gig, she was unable to find the right fit. “I helped bands gain some mild success, and then once we got to that place—well, it always seemed to reach a point that it was no longer for me anymore.”

For a decade, she drummed her way through a variety of line-ups and towns. But behind the scenes, she was crafting a different narrative for herself. “I was always secretly writing my own stuff and wanting to make solo records.”

Eventually, she did just that, returning to New Orleans and recording two albums under the moniker Au Ras Au Ras: The Great Nothing (2012) and the eponymous Au Ras Au Ras (2011). “The touring took a backseat. For me to be someone’s drummer again, it would have to be something really special.”

And though releasing her work through a label earned Brunet more exposure, she came to clash with the record executives and the shallow ideals she perceived in the music industry. “When you’re decent-looking, the label makes certain suggestions. ‘You should get contacts. You should wear a low-cut shirt.’ I’m not a fan.”

When the higher-ups asked her to pose for the racy Maxim magazine, Brunet only agreed to the photo-shoot under one condition: she would wear a bulky bunny costume rather than a bikini. “And they were not going for that. They didn’t really like anyone saying no to them.” She parted ways with the label and its constraints.

Now, as an independent operator, Brunet’s exposure level may have dimmed, but she still plans to press her own records and play regional shows. “If a hundred people buy my music and like it, fine. I’m at a place where I’m just making records for me. That’s the whole point of it anyway.”

But she’s done with touring—for now at least. Once she stopped and took a breath, Brunet was able to turn her attention to dreams beyond her music career, dreams which soon materialized in Lagniappe Records.

“I always wanted to go into business for myself,” she said. “I used to think it would be a restaurant. But after meeting [my partner] Patrick and sharing our love of vinyl, that’s what our business ended up being.”

They entered the record trade online at first, but Brunet longed for a tangible location out of which to house and sell her mountainous vinyl collection. “I wanted it to be in Louisiana; that was important to me,” she said. Though she was living in New Orleans at the time, she took every chance to commute up to her friends in Baton Rouge, whom she considered “a really strong support network,” more in tune with her professionally than the still-partying group she was outgrowing in New Orleans. “The dynamic changes, but [the support] remains constant. I think that’s what we should all look for in friends.”

It wasn’t just the location of her social circle that attracted Brunet to the capital city. She was drawn to the tight-knit arts community and its hum of progress. “I feel like Baton Rouge needed me as much as I needed it. I wanted to go somewhere where I could make an impact and bring something cool to the table.”

To the turntable, Brunet brings plenty. Lagniappe Records finally opened a physical location last summer, on the corner of France Street and 10th Street, immediately off Government. The record store occupies one half of a duplex; Brunet and Patrick live in the adjacent unit.

Guitars, show flyers, and an assortment of featured records adorn the walls. Boxes and boxes of LPs run the perimeter of the shop, sorted broadly by genre (rock, classical, rarities, and more) and then alphabetized. A browser can find selections ranging from the latest Tame Impala LP, to Sarah Vaughan crooning with Count Basie. Discogs.com and other record sites stay open on the store’s desktop computer, relied on to double-check prices or hunt down a customer’s dream record.

Brunet’s drum kit provides a bright red centerpiece, but it’s not just an ornament. Lagniappe frequently holds after-hours performances where local musicians, including Brunet, exercise their instruments plenty.

Here in Baton Rouge, the no-longer-nomadic Brunet relishes the chance to make a little noise, to have her cultural contributions resound. “All the places I left…I was searching for that. It’s just different here,” she said.

And she won’t commiserate with naysayers bringing their complaints into the store. “When people come in here and get negative about Baton Rouge, I say to them, ‘Well, what are you doing to change it? Let’s start there.’”

Details. Details. Details.
Lagniappe Records
986 France Street
Baton Rouge, La.
(504) 222-9034 • lagniapperecords.com

Lagniappe will be moving to 705 St. Joseph Street—just three blocks away from their current location—in mid-to-late-July, expanding its collection, offering live shows, and installing a French Press for the very lucky record-browsers to enjoy.

Lagniappe Records buys, sells, and trades vinyl records. They also deal in new and vintage turntables as well as replacement needles. If they don’t have a title in stock, they’re happy to order it for you.